don’t like being in a man’s debt,” Ryan finally added, breaking the silence. As he spoke, he switched his vision to infrared, scanning the figures above. They were alive—he had seen them move when he had arrived with Roma. In infrared, their bodies gave off heat. “So, if there’s anything my people can do—”
“There is no debt to pay, Ryan Cawdor,” a male voice said, deep and resonant.
It took Ryan a moment to pinpoint who had spoken, and he turned to face the man, holding up one hand up as if to shield his eyes and better see in the darkness. “I’m grateful for that. Can I ask why?”
There was silence again, a long pause while Ryan waited. Finally, the resonant voice spoke again.
“Humankind destroyed itself in a nuclear exchange one hundred years ago,” the voice said. “What little remains is barely enough to sustain the survivors. We in Progress plan to change that. We are working hard on a solution, or on multiple solutions, that will grant a reprieve for all that has been wrought on this once-great nation.”
Memories of Judge Santee washed across Ryan’s mind, but he let it pass.
“And the hardware in my eye?” Ryan asked. “Is that part of your solution?”
Ryan waited once more while the room fell silent. Then a narrow spotlight came on, focusing solely on another figure, who had been waiting in the darkness. The man wore a gray robe with a headpiece that covered the forehead and back of his skull like a hood. Ryan automatically commanded his left eye to magnify, focusing on the man’s face. The headpiece looked to be made of plastic or metal, Ryan thought, while the man looked to be in middle age, with dark skin.
“My name is Emil,” the man told Ryan. “I designed the hardware in your eye, along with my companions here—Una and Turing. What you are experiencing is an infinitesimal step toward the betterment of this world. Tiny steps are all we can expect at this moment, but that will change.”
“You have an impressive setup here, Emil,” Ryan said. “I saw the dam out there. Krysty said you get your power from it.”
“It takes a lot to power the future,” Emil told him. “We intend to make things perfect.”
Ryan smiled. “Perfect’s a tall order.”
“Rest assured, Mr. Cawdor—all we need is time,” Emil answered.
Then the spotlight dimmed and the room was cast in darkness once more, the seven figures returned to shadows watching Ryan from above.
“Thank you for your time,” Ryan said, dipping his head once, respectfully, before stepping back and returning to the elevator, where Roma stood waiting. A moment later, they were back in the lobby, making their way toward the exit, where the automated transport waited.
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